


Where Heroes Come to Die

by sugawrites



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Greek Mythology, F/M, M/M, Multi, allura is still a princess, everyone is a little in love with lance, i have no idea what au this would tie in, lance is a nymph who knows he's beautiful, shiro and keith are half-brothers, zarkon is still a turtle faced hoe nugget
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:21:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9845315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugawrites/pseuds/sugawrites
Summary: Keith suddenly felt extremely self-conscious, being under the watchful gaze of the beautiful creature in front of him. Curious blue eyes followed his every move, dark fingers that stood out from his own pale skin, tracing every dip and scratch of his body. A small smile crept onto the creature's face, and Keith felt his face burn."You can see me," the creature whispered, playing with his hands. "You can see me!"or: where Lance is a cursed nymph and Keith has a sword that doesn't belong to him.





	1. Chapter 1

It was common word around the marketplace, tales that spoke of a beautiful creature hidden deep in the forest. Songs of dark skin and blue eyes that shimmered in the depths of the water, of brightly colored flora weaving in and out of soft dark hair and a voice so calming it put past pain to rest. People from far and wide came to the kingdom of Carthiel to search for the elusive being, having heard of the fortune or the fame or the glory that would be bestowed upon them should they find the creature, but none have ever found it.

Many have traipsed the forests surrounding the kingdom, hunters armed with bows, widows with their newborns tucked safe under their bosom, young children playing soldiers, but none have ever succeeded in catching the creature. They circle the surrounding trees and venture deeper, but find no trace of anything living in the forest besides the animals.

It’s almost as if...it doesn’t exist.

Those who embarked on the quest would return to the kingdom heavyhearted to spread their findings, or lack thereof. One would think the legend of the forest being would die as soon as anyone confirmed of it’s inexistence, but there’s something about it that just keeps people coming back. There’s just something that keeps the legend alive, keeps people hungry and wanting more.

The promise of fame, fortune, and eternal glory is enticing for those with weak hearts, after all.

There was another myth regarding the creature, however, one that those who pine after gold and recognition could never hear. It speaks of a place in the forest, a small glade that looms over a crystal lake, watched over by the creature, offering protection for those who seek it. There is no gold to be found, there is no glory to be attained - the only blessing the creature offers is that of sanctuary. Safety, asylum away from those who wish to bring harm, a place to catch a breath, the creature’s home provided that for those who needed it.

There was something about his home that drew the lost and the weary in and made them feel safe.

There was also something about his home that made people think it was an okay place to rendezvous with their lovers and snog on the forest floor.

He hid behind a laurel tree, covering his reddening cheeks as the intimate murmurs of the two lovers in his glade carried towards him in the wind. Lying on the grass, the intruders wrestled around, giggling and whispering sweet nothings into each-other’s ears. He’d managed to catch a quick glimpse of their faces - it had been a young princess with rich dark skin and long white hair that had come into his home, hands linked with a tall, handsome man - before he’d gone barreling into the safety of the leaves. He’d bumped his antlers into the branches as he’d made his escape - but as always, the two intruders didn’t notice.

Not that they could, anyways.

Once upon a time, humans had been able to see him with ease. But he’d angered a god (seriously, how was he supposed to know that Persephone had been off limits?) and he’d been cursed - none would be able to see him, only catch his reflection in the water. He huffed to himself at the memory - he was a beautiful creature, it was the world’s loss.

He peeked around the laurel, and found the handsome man pressing one last kiss to his lover’s temple. A squawk of disdain escaped his lips before he slammed his hand over his mouth.

“I’ll see you again, princess,” the man whispered.

The young princess playfully hit his shoulder, smiling wildly. “What have I told you about calling me that when we’re alone?” Her laughter rang through the glade like a clear bell. “Please, call me Allura.”

“Then, Allura,” the man’s voice was softer this time. “I’ll be going now. Please be safe, and try not to kill anyone on your return to the palace.”

Allura gave the man a look as he walked out of the glade. He watched the handsome man disappear into the trees before stepping out into the open The princess would soon be leaving after him, so he’d hopefully have his glade all to himself for the rest of the night. He whirled around the tree only to trip on a root protruding from the ground. The princess whirled around at the loud _thump_ that came from his fall, drawing a dagger from beneath her dress.

“Who’s there?” Her voice was loud and demanded authority, a stark contrast from the gentle whispers and giggles he had heard before. It sent chills down his spine. “Who are you, and how long have you been there? Come out into the light!”

He stood up slowly, holding his hands up in the air. “You can see me?” he asked quietly.

“If I could see you, I’d have you gutted in an instant. Now, where are you?!”

“You can’t see me then,” he whispered. He then gasped. “But...you can hear me! Can you hear me?”

“Of course I can hear you! Are you stupid?”

He clapped his hands in excitement. This was amazing! “You can! That’s great! Please, look towards the water!” he exclaimed.

The princess glared in his direction. “So you can push me in and drown me? No thank you, I’m very much happy dry and alive right where I am!”

“No, no, I promise I won’t touch you,” he said. “It’s not like I can, either…”

The princess lowered her dagger and thought for a moment before inching towards the water. He skipped into the water, splashing around so she could follow his movement. She came to the edge, and slowly crouched down. Her eyes widened, and the dagger slipped from her hand. There, in the water, was a nymph, grinning widely at her and jumping around excitedly. She stumbled back, mouth agape.

“But that’s not-” she shook her head. “What in Hades are you?”

“I’m a nymph, duh,” he deadpanned. “My name is Lance! You’re name is Allura! I know that because that really handsome guy was saying it a lot as you kissed - which, might I ask, how does that feel? Does it feel nice? Because a lot of you humans come in here doing it and I want to know what the big deal is. Here’s an idea, how about you kiss me and I can find out!”

The princess watched his reflection as the nymph rambled on and on about strange human behaviors. He was beautiful, speaking honestly, even by nymph standards. He had dark skin and bright blue eyes that shone in the water. Large antlers sat atop his head, flowers growing out of and around them, forming a crown around his head. He was also completely naked, a fact that she acknowledged with an embarrassed cry before turning away.

“How long have you been here?” she asked quietly. “And...how much..did you see..?”

“I saw everything,” Lance replied. “Don’t worry, I hid behind that tree when things started getting really nasty.”

Allura’s face burned. “Have you been here all those other times too?”

“I’m always here. I _live_ here.”

She gasped. All those times… she and… oh dear. She covered her face, squeaking indignantly as she realized what exactly the chattery nymph had seen and heard. “I am-” she stopped, shaking her head. “I am so sorry! I didn’t know-”

“It’s okay, princess, it’s okay, calm down,” Lance frowned. He hadn’t wanted to make her upset.

“I’m just so ashamed of myself! Honestly, how could I have been so… so rude! Please, forgive me for everything.”

He waded out of the water and sat down next to her. He tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but it passed through her skin. “Don’t be sorry, it isn’t your fault you didn’t know,” he said softly. The princess nodded meekly, but she stilled murmured softly to herself, something about “moral obligations” and “proper public etiquette”.

She calmed down after a while, her face regaining its usual color. Lance smiled. At least she wasn’t freaking out anymore. Allura looked into the lake. “Why can’t I see you?” she asked. She suddenly stopped breathing, and then began looking around in horror. “I’m sorry, that’s such a prying question! You don’t have to answer-”

“It’s alright, it’s not that bad of a question. The story behind it is actually kind of funny,” Lance chuckled to himself. “I fell in love with a goddess. Persephone. I tried wooing her, but I didn’t know she had a husband - or such an angry mother, for that matter. Honestly, godly gossip never reaches me. The other nymphs never really tell me anything...” his voice trailed off as he saw Allura’s puzzled face. “Off topic. Anyways, Hades and Demeter both came after me, but when they got here, they began arguing about how would get to kill me. In the end, they’d gotten into such a big fight that Zeus himself had to intervene, and he decided that my punishment would be to be invisible forever.”

“Being invisible doesn’t seem like much of a punishment,” Allura said thoughtfully. “I think I’d quite enjoy it sometimes.”

“When you’re as beautiful as me, princess, you absolutely _must_ be seen.”

“Nevermind. I see now why they cursed you that way.”

Lance held his hand to his heart. “Why, you wound me, princess!”

Allura giggled. She looked towards the water, and suddenly gasped. “The moon is out!” she said loudly. “It’s nighttime already! They’re going to notice I snuck away from the- I have to go, now!”

“Good luck not getting caught,” Lance teased.

“I’ve been doing this for my whole life, hopefully I won’t,” she grinned. “Goodbye, Lance!”

Allura began running towards the trees. Lance watched her leave, and called after her, “Next time you come, at least give me a warning so I can leave you two alone!” He heard her laugh out loud as she ran, and he smiled.

_She’s nice. I like her._

Lance turned to the lake, dipping his feet into the blue water. It had been so long since he talked to someone, he’d forgotten how nice it was to have an actual conversation with someone. He sighed as he slipped into the water.

_I wonder if she’ll come back._

  
  
  
  
  
  


Keith pulled back his sword, twisting and twirling it in his hand, testing the weight of it against his arm. The blacksmith, a built young man covered in ink who went by the name of Hunk, smiled warmly at him.

“How is it?” he asked.

“It’s perfect,” Keith replied quietly. “It feels lighter than before… How were you able to fix it?”

Hunk scratched his head, his face darkening a little bit. “I have a knack for working with metal,” he said bashfully. “I’m glad you liked it. It’s a beautiful sword, I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to do it any justice.”

“It’s a beautiful sword, but it has a tragic history.”

“Does it have a name?” Hunk asked.

“You may have heard of it,” Keith smiled bitterly. “Anaklusmos.”

The blacksmith gaped. “Heracles’ sword?”

“It no longer belongs to Heracles. He’s dead, after all. It’s mine now.”

Hunk inched away from the sword, nodding slowly in understanding. The doors to the forge  suddenly burst open, and Keith went to tuck his sword in its sheath before anyone else saw it. The two turned towards the doorway, where they found the colonel standing at the archway, large arms crossed and an unsettling frown on his rugged face, beady black eyes focused on Keith. Hunk shrunk away from the colonel’s gaze, murmuring some excuse about other metal in the fire before disappearing into the forge. Keith returned the colonel’s stare with equal annoyance.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you filthy half-breed,” the colonel spat. “Did you forget about why we’re here? Or does your foreign blood excuse you from the tasks we’ve been assigned with?”

“I asked the general for permission to come repair my sword,” Keith muttered. “If you have any issues with my being here, go take it up with him.”

There was a fire in the colonel’s small eyes as he spoke, and the face-splitting scowl on his face amused Keith to no ends. “Are you talking back to me?”

“I might be.”

“Why you little mu-”

Before the colonel could raise his hand to strike Keith, someone else entered the forge. Keith smiled wryly at the general, who nodded at him. The colonel dropped his hand, and Keith sent him one last nasty smile before making his way towards the doors.

“Oh, Keith?”

The young soldier turned to look at the general. “Yes?”

“I have something to discuss with you and your older brother later.”

“Uh..okay?” Keith suddenly shook his head and pinched himself behind his back. “I mean, yes sir! Of course, sir! ..Okay, sir?”

The general simply chuckled. Keith hit himself internally before breaking off into a run towards the camps with one last nod towards the general. He laughed to himself as he ran, remembering the absolutely appalled look on that good-for-nothing colonel’s face. He hated that man with a deep passion, and nothing made his day than setting the colonel off. He knew he was going to get an earful about it once the general disappeared, but the satisfaction he felt now was completely worth it.

He split off the main street and entered the army camps. He slowed his run to a fast walk, wary of the men polishing their weapons at the front of their tents, acknowledging their grunts with a small nod. Keith made his way towards a familiar tent in the center of the camp, and ducked underneath the tent flaps. His brother turned to greet him as he entered, waving his metal arm in the air.

“And where have you been?” Keith asked, a knowing smile making it’s way onto his face as he sat down next to his brother.

Takashi nudged him with his elbow. “I could ask the same thing to you,” he said. “Finally got around to repairing that old sword of yours?”

The younger pulled Anaklusmos out of its sheath. “The blacksmith I took it to was actually able to fix it,” he said excitedly. “It feels different, somehow. Better than before.”

“Only you would get that excited about a piece of metal.”

“You have your princess, I have my swords,” Keith said. “You stay in your corner, and I stay in mine.”

His older brother choked, a funny wide-eyed expression replacing the grin on his face. “How did you-?” Takashi couldn’t finish his sentence, face burning red as Keith howled with laughter.

“I’m not stupid. I know you’re always sneaking off in the middle of the night to see her.” Keith grimaced. “It’s gross. I always end up having to cover for you.”

“How long have you known…?”

“Since forever?”

Takashi cursed under his breath. “Do you think anyone else knows?” He began looking around. “What if someone is listening in right now? What if the King knows?!”

“Not everyone has a careless brother like you,” Keith reassured him. “I’m sure the King doesn’t suspect a thing. The Princess is a pretty damn good liar, you know.”

Takashi let out a sigh of relief. Keith snorted at the look on his face. Romance had made his brother go soft - it was disgusting, really. The once ruthless champion, turned into a giggling, giddy mess by a woman, and the princess no less. Keith prayed to the gods in hopes that it never happened to him.

“By the way, the general said he wanted to talk to us about something?” he asked. “Do you have any idea what that old geezer wants?”

His older brother shook his head. “No, I don’t. We should probably go before he has us skinned alive like the last two.”

“...Last two..?” Takashi gave him an amused smile, and Keith waved his hand. “Nevermind, nevermind, I don’t want to know.

The two brothers got up and exited the tent. Keith patted his sword by his side, and began following his brother. They walked towards the general’s tent, which laid at the heart of the army camp. Takashi nodded towards the soldier guarding the front before announcing their presence.

“I was just about to send someone to get you two,” the general said as they entered the tent. “But it’s good that you two came. I have something to discuss with you.”

“What is it?”

The general brought out a map. Keith noticed it was a map of the city they were stationed in, Carthiel, and the surrounding forests. “Someone passed off word to one of our soldiers that the Galran armies have centered their troops around this area.” He pointed to an area a little ways away from the temples of Poseidon, near the port of the city. Keith looked towards Takashi.

“How did they land without anyone knowing?” Takashi asked quietly.

“That’s what I need you two. More specifically, I need Keith.” Keith froze at the mention of his name. “I know you have Galran blood in you. You can mask your accent, you can hide the marks that give away your lineage, but I know what you are.”

“General, I-”

The general raised his hand to silence him. “Unlike our esteemed colonel, I have no qualms with where you come from. For many years, your brother has fought bravely for our country, and although you joined the army but a mere two years ago, you have proven your allegiance to the King. You have nothing to fear.” In spite of his words, Keith still felt a ghost of fear chilling his bones, but he said nothing. “The Galran armies have no idea of your enrollment in the army. They have no idea what you look like.”

Keith shook his head. “Sir, I don’t-”

“Disguise yourself as one of the Galran soldiers. Gather information, all that you can.” The general rolled the map up and tucked it away. “You’re a good soldier, Keith. I know that this task is nothing to you.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Good.” The general turned to Takashi. “You’re to stay close behind him, in any event that something goes wrong. Are my orders clear?”

“Very, sir."

“Excellent. You’re both dismissed.”

With that, the general turned his attention away from them, and Keith and Takashi left his tent. They walked back to their own tent, both completely silent. It was only when they were back in the safety of their tent that Takashi spoke.

“You don’t have to go back there, you know,” he said quietly. “You really don’t.”

“I have to,” Keith cast his eyes towards the ground. “I don’t really have much of a choice.”

“We have other ways of gathering information from them. You don’t have to actually go in there and-”

“The general says he wants me to infiltrate them, so I will. It can’t be that hard. People that barbaric probably don’t have a lot going for them upstairs right? I mean, look at you.”

Takashi shot him a look. “Are you calling me stupid?"

“I might be.”

The two shared a look between them and laughed. “So you’re really doing this,” Takashi said.

“We leave before sunrise tomorrow.”

There was enough answer in that for both of them. The two brothers took to preparing for the next day’s task, each heading into the market to gather supplies. Even with the mindless distraction placed on him, Keith couldn’t shake the sense of dread that filled him when he thought about his oncoming task.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith's mission doesn't go according to plan.

For the first time in years, Keith felt afraid.

He stood in front of Takashi, hair slicked back and skin clean of the paint that usually covered his birthmarks. The two of them had set out before the sun had risen, donning cloaks and slipping into shadows as they ventured into the forests where the Galran troops had stationed their ships. They'd hidden out in the trees, watching the soldiers below them, memorizing their every move and mannerism in hopes of mimicking them perfectly. Now, with the camps buzzing with activity, Keith stood by the tree where Takashi was hidden in, ready to jump into the fray. 

"You're going to be alright," he could hear Takashi say quietly. "You can do this."

Keith could only nod shakily. It was easy for his older brother to say things like that since he wasn't the one about to venture into a camp of the very people who had banished him as a child. He straightened his sword - rather, it was someone else's sword, he and Takashi had ambushed a soldier earlier and stripped him of his uniform - and turned towards the entrance of the camps. There was a faint ringing in his ears that grew louder as he began to walk, and there was this knot of dread in his stomach, but he ignored both of them, putting on a stone-cold face.

"Patience yields focus," Keith said to himself. "Patience yields focus."

He heard his older brother chuckle softly. Keith sent him one last smile over his shoulder before entering the camp. 

The Galran troops had stationed themselves near Carthiel's west port, in a bank almost impossible to enter without the proper navigation and prior knowledge of the lands. He could hear the roll of waves on the sand, the clink of metal on metal, and the hushed murmurs of soldiers planning as he pressed forward with absolutely no clue as to what he was supposed to do. The sudden sound of a trumpet tooting loudly in the air made him jump, and Keith cursed his nerves under his breath. If he kept jumping and flinching at every sudden noise, the soldiers would be able discover him, and his cover would be blown. He began moving in the direction towards the north camp, following the mass of soldiers that lumbered towards the tooting trumpet, when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. 

Keith almost screamed.

Instead, he turned around, looking at the soldier behind him. The Galran smiled warmly at him, and he felt himself relax. "Are you new here?" the soldier asked.

"Yes, actually," Keith replied smoothly. "I was just transferred from the troops in Lagos."

"Lagos, eh?" _Please buy it, please buy it._ "No trouble then. I'll help you acquaint yourself with the camp. My name is Thace, by the way. Second in command to general Hedae, hail Zarkon."

"I'm Kalos." The name of his father left a nasty taste in his mouth, but Keith didn't let it show on his face.

Thace patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Well, Kalos, it seems you've arrived just in time for the general to give you your first assignment. Come, before we're punished for being late."

Keith followed the older soldier towards a large stage in the north of camp. A large, heavily muscled man stood at the top of the stage, leaning on his broadsword with a wicked grin on his face. He was scarred and feral, and had a look on his face that screamed of an insatiable lust for blood, the very image of a Galran general. Keith tried not to make eye contact with him as he was huddled in with a group of fresh young soldiers.

"Fellow Galra," the man finally spoke, golden eyes breezing over the mass of men in front of him. "Our time is almost here."

The soldiers cheered loud and fiercely. Keith let out a half-hearted whistle.

"Come sundown tomorrow, the kingdom of Carthiel shall be laid waste at our feet, and we the victors will be made known throughout the empire as the ones who defeated the great King Mide." The man spat the name with such venom it made shivers run down Keith's spine. "Come tomorrow, we will be kings!"

The young boy next to Keith slapped his back, and Keith forced a nasty laugh.

"Ready your weapons. Say goodbye to your mothers and your wives and your children, for tomorrow you will die, and be reborn as a champion! Hail Zarkon!"

"Hail Zarkon!" the soldiers echoed. "Hail Zarkon!"

The man jumped off the stage, walking off with a couple other important looking men. The boy next to Keith turned to him with a huge grin on his face and a hopeful look in his eyes. "General Hedae sure knows how to fire up a soldier, doesn't he?" he asked. "I feel as if I could take an entire country and squish it under my feet."

"Seems like tomorrow, that's exactly what we'll be doing," Keith replied.

"And where do you come from?" the boy asked.

"Lagos."

The boy slapped his shoulder and howled. "Those savages?!" he cried. "You've got to be one hell of a fighter, then!"

"I'd say I'm pretty handy with a blade," Keith said, patting his sword. 

The boy turned to his group of friends. "Check this out," he said. "This one's from the troops in Lagos, can you believe it?"

"Bloody amazing," one of them whispered in awe.

"Show us what you can do with that," another egged. 

A chorus of "Show us, show us!" circled through the group, and Keith shook his head and hands. The oldest looking of a group, an ugly looking teenager with hair in all the wrong places sneered at him. 

"I bet you all he was just a water boy," he spat. "Look at him, all bones and no muscle. How did you survive in a place like Lagos?"

Keith scoffed. "By driving all of my opponents six feet under." He smirked at the surprised look on the boys faces. "Would you like to say hello to Hades for me as well?"

"What, you think you can fight me?" the boy asked.

"I don't think, I know." With that, Keith drew his sword, and lunged.

The boy barely had a second to draw his own blade before he was stuck in a cycle of parry and dodge. He may have been twice his size, both sideways and upward, but Keith was fast and fought like an animal, jumping and swinging and slashing almost randomly. The group of boys whooped and whistled as they fought, catching the attention of other soldiers. Soon, there was a crowd forming around them, watching the two fight. Keith felt invigorated by the cheers around him, and it pushed him to fight harder and harder. Soon, he had the boy under him, blade pressed to the boy's neck.

"How did I survive in a place like Lagos, eh?" Keith taunted. "More like, how did anyone survive against me?"

The boy spat at his face. "You're a monster."

"And you're just a weakling." 

Keith withdrew his sword and rolled off of the boy, patting the dirt off of his tunic. He made a move to leave, but someone pushed him back into the circle.

"Kill him," a soldier muttered. 

"Kill him, kill him, kill him!"

The crowd began chanting, and Keith looked down at the boy he had just fought. All of the malice and spite had left the boy's face, and all that was left was fear, pure, unadulterated fear at the chants of the soldiers surrounding them. Keith looked down at the sword in his hand, and grinned. Kill the boy? That'd be absolutely no trouble. It would help cement his act. He began moving closer, sword at the ready, and was about to strike when someone yelled for everyone to stop.

The crowd parted, and Keith turned to find Thace and the man from before, General Hedae, standing in front of him. Thace beckoned for him to come, and Keith obeyed silently, sending the boy one last look before following the two men into a tent. 

"Commander Thace tells me it's your first day here," Hedae spoke as the tent flap closed. "First day here and already we're picking fights?"

"I'm sorry," was all Keith could say.

"Tell me, what started this fight?"

"I told them of my coming from Lagos, and he insulted me," Keith replied. 

"So you fought to defend your honor, did you not?"

"Yes, General, I did."

Hedae stroked his chin, humming thoughtfully. "Good to know that you Lagos soldiers aren't just savages without morals," he said. "You fought well. Surprisingly well for someone your age, even from a place like Lagos."

"I've been told I was always talented with weapons, even as a child," Keith said.

"And why did you leave Lagos? Someone like you would surely have been on the path to success."

Keith bit his lip. How was he supposed to come up the answer to that kind of question on the fly? He and Takashi hadn't thought to come up with some kind of backstory - the plan was to go under the radar, unnoticed, and collect information. Keith could never have anticipated standing in front of the army general. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, only unintelligent noises of confusion. A nasty grin made its way onto Hedae's face. The general rose, and began to speak, but a sudden yelling interrupted him.

"General Hedae! General!" A foot-soldier came barreling through the flaps of the tent, and behind him came two heavy men struggling to drag something. "We found- We found this spy outside of the camp entrance! He's of the Altean armies!"

The general made a noise of amusement. "An Altean spy? In my camps?" he guffawed. "Show him to me."

Keith watched with horror as the two men tossed Takashi onto the floor in front of the general. Hedae walked around his desk, and Keith felt his blood roar in his ears as he came to stand in front of Takashi. He heard Takashi hiss in pain as Hedae stepped on his hand and ground the heel of his boot into the skin of Takashi's left arm. 

"Did you actually think you could slip away unnoticed?" Hedae muttered. "Did you think I wouldn't know of a spy?! Did you think I'm an idiot?!"

Each word was another blow to Takashi's already broken body. Keith turned away, forcing the tears away from his eyes. It was _that_ night all over again. Takashi was going to be killed. Worse, he was going to be tortured. He breathed deeply, attempting to calm the rage boiling in his stomach as his brother was destroyed in front of him. What had happened? How had Takashi been discovered? It was his fault. He had forced Takashi to come with him. He had asked him to help. It was all his fault.

It was always his fault.

The young foot-soldier who had led the two brutes in looked at him. "I've never seen you here before," he said softly. "Did you come with the new recruits from Troia?"

Thace looked at Keith and shook his head. "He says he comes from Lagos," he said. "He's quite a fighter."

Keith forced himself to hum in agreement. The foot-soldier frowned. "But that's impossible. The troops from Lagos were disbanded months ago."

Keith felt his blood run cold. Hedae froze. He turned, ever so slowly, to face Keith, who took a step back when he saw the downright evil smile on the general's face. "That's right," Hedae murmured. "Emperor Zarkon ordered all troops from Lagos to be disbanded and killed. It would have been impossible for you to come from there." He grabbed Keith by the neck of his tunic and left him dangling in the air. "So, _Kalos,_ if that even is your real name. Who are you?"

The look in Hedae's eyes was downright murderous. Keith struggled against the general's hold, kicking and thrashing about, but it was no use. He was absolutely helpless against Hedae. The general laughed in his face, his spittle flying everywhere as he cackled like the insane, bloodthirsty monster that he was, before turning back to Thace. "Summon the executioner," he ordered.

Thace nodded in understanding and left the tent. Hedae threw Keith onto the ground next to Takashi, and turned to the foot-soldier and his two brutes. "Take these two spies to the pit," he said before moving towards his desk.

The two brutes kneeled down next to the two brothers, and slung both of them over their shoulders. Keith's vision was blurry, but he still turned to look for Takashi. He almost screamed when he saw his brother. Takashi was bloody and bruised, purple and blue and black littering his skin where Hedae's boot had touched him. His right arm, the one with the prosthetic, was twisted at an unnatural angle, and blood was seeping through the metal and onto the ground. Keith struggled against the brute's hold, desperate to go to his brother and help him, but he was way too weak. He was tossed into a hole in the ground in the center of the camp along with Takashi, and the metal bars were slammed down, sealing them both in.

Almost immediately, he crawled to Takashi.

"How did this happen?" Keith choked back a sob as he turned Takashi onto his back. "Why did you get caught? Why didn't you save yourself?"

Takashi cracked open his right eye and smiled. "I couldn't leave my... my little brother with the wolves," he murmured. "All or nothing."

"Who cares about me, you idiot?" Takashi's breath was becoming ragged, and the light was slipping from his eyes. "You could have lived. You _have_ to live! For the princess, for mom! Why are you so stupid?!"

"A life without my brother is..no life at all," his brother sputtered.

Keith wanted to hurt someone. He wanted to kill, he wanted to murder and scream and make whoever was responsible for his brother's pain suffer. Instead, he stayed silent, cradling Takashi's unconscious body in his arms. God knew how much time both of them were in that cell, waiting for an inevitable death by Galran hands. In his imprisonment, Keith cursed everyone, but above all, he cursed himself for being hated and toyed with by the gods. When the sun set and the soldiers came for both of them, Keith made a promise. 

"You're going to live," he whispered to Takashi as the soldiers opened the brig. "You're going to live, Takashi, I promise."

The brothers were dragged out of the holding cell and pushed in the direction of the platform, where hundreds, possibly thousands of Galran soldiers were cheering and screaming for blood. A tall and large half-naked man stood with a large sword at the center of the stage, sneering at Keith through his mask. The soldiers shuffled Takashi, delirious and already half-dead, onto a wooden block, and slammed his head face-first into the wood. Hedae stood from his seat in front of the stage.

"We come together to rid ourselves of these Altean vermin," he announced to the crowd of soldiers. "May you young soldiers use these two scum as an example as to what happens when you go against Emperor Zarkon's will."

The executioner poised his weapon. Keith screamed in protest, thrashing and fighting and ready to kill, as he raised his sword and brought it down. The soldiers laughed and look on in amusement as the sword whistled through the air-

-and sliced clean through the executioner's head.

Blood seeped through the floorboard's of the platform, and screams of horror filled the air as Takashi rose from his kneeling position with the executioner's head in his hands. Keith screamed as well, not in terror or fear, but in relief. The soldiers holding him dropped him onto his knees and jumped off the stage, and Keith stumbled forward towards his brother.

Except it wasn't his brother. The man standing in front of him was murderous, angry, with a glowing prosthetic and golden eyes and a nasty grin on his face. Keith shook his head in disbelief, refusing to believe that the ruthless killer in front of him was his brother. Takashi tossed the head of the executioner into the lap of Hedae, and threw his head back laughing when the soldiers squealed like pigs. 

"T-Takashi?" Keith whispered.

"Keith," his brother drawled. Keith heard Hedae ordering his men, and Takashi smiled at him. "Run."

The next few seconds happened in slow motion. A loud "Attack!" echoed through the camps, and all at once, the soldiers came running at the stage with their swords aimed to kill. Keith was pushed off the stage and onto the ground, and he began to run. For the rest of his life, he would curse himself for running like a coward, but he ran. 

He left the camp hearing his brother being murdered, with soldiers and bloodhounds chasing after him, with tears rolling down his cheeks and his lungs and throat burning, but he ran. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith loses his brother, but he makes a new friend.

The gods only knew how far he'd run to escape the Galran soldiers.

His lungs burned, and the muscles in his legs hurt, but Keith continued to run deeper and deeper into the forest. A hand on his sword bouncing on his hip, Keith flew past trees and bushes, ignoring the sharp branches tearing at his skin like claws. He desperately wanted to stop, if just for a moment to catch his breathe, but he knew he couldn't. He had to live, if not for him, then for Takashi.

He bit back a scream at the thought of his brother lying helplessly beneath that godforsaken general's dirty boots. It was Keith's fault, it was all Keith's fault, their capture, their execution, Takashi's death. If he had just refused the infiltration order, Takashi would still be alive. He'd be alive, and he'd be happy, not at the mercy of the Galra. But what could have been didn't matter anymore. Takashi was dead, most likely hacked into pieces by angry soldiers or being tortured by Hedae or gods knew what, and Keith was running away like a coward into the forest because he didn't know how to fight back.

"I'll kill them," he seethed. "I'll make them pay for what they did to Takashi."

But first, he had to lose the soldiers chasing after him. Keith could hear them barking orders to capture him, and the speculations among the soldiers about what the general would do to him when they caught him only made him run faster. Keith spotted a large tree up ahead, and he jumped up to catch a branch. He pulled himself up onto the tree, twisting around the network of branches and jumping onto the next. He drew his sword as he came closer to the clearing where the soldiers were, and stabbed one as he swung past them on an overhanging branch. The leader began yelling for his men to "Capture him!", but Keith was already long gone, jumping from branch to branch, hurtling away from them.

Keith hadn't been lying to the Galran soldiers when he'd told them he was built for battle.

Back when he and Takashi had children on the island, they'd made a habit of dangling from the roofs of their home and the branches of the trees surrounding their house. Their mother used to call them monkeys because of their habit of spending their afternoons in high places, and Keith honestly couldn't have been more thankful of that dumb game Takashi had forced him to play. He jumped up to catch the branch of a large laurel, but the sharp pain of an arrow piercing the skin of his soldier made him miss the branch, and he fell. 

Arrows whizzed by him in the air as he plummeted to the ground. He cried out in pain as he hit the forest floor, the force of the impact forcing the head of the arrow deeper into the bone of his shoulder.. Keith could hear the soldiers catching up to him, their cold hands grasping at his skin, and he hissed as they began to pull him across the floor. He'd failed. There was no reason to fight back - he was already a dead man, there was no use in trying to escape. He resigned himself to the fates and let himself be dragged across the grass to his inevitable death that waited in the form of Hedae and his soldiers. 

His vision blurring, he thought of Takashi one last time. _I'm sorry,_  Keith thought. _I'm sorry I failed you._

Someone pulled at the arrow in his shoulder, and he screamed.

 

 

He could feel cold fingers dancing along the skin of his cheeks and combing through his hair. His muscles ached terribly and the back of his shoulder burned where the arrow had pierced the skin, and Keith struggled to open his eyes against the blinding light of the sun shining down on his face. As he pushed himself off the grassy forest floor, he could only wonder if this is what death felt like, all bone-deep tiredness and an annoying urge to fall asleep. Keith rubbed at his eyes, hoping to clear his vision, and looked around.

He was in some kind of clearing, that much was for sure. Trees surrounded the patch of grass he'd been laying in, massive brown trunks growing and dancing around each-other to form some kind of natural barrier. Thick leaves hid the bright blue sky, casting shadows were the sunlight managed to peak through. There was a lake where the grass stopped and became sand, the water so clear he could see schools of fish ducking into underwater caverns. A waterfall rolled over a rocky overhang, and he could make out a caves behind the white froth. Keith almost mistook the place for the afterlife, some nice, secluded nook tucked deep in the Isles of the Blessed, but then he remembered how cursed of a life he had lived, and quickly dismissed the idea. Movement from the corner of his eye prodded him to look in front of him.

He almost shrieked.

Sitting in front of him, holding wet leaves close to his face, was one of the most beautiful creatures Keith had ever seen. Rich brown skin and hair darker than chocolate, the creature made him doubt that he was still alive and not sitting in the Isles of the Blessed. He looked the creature up and down, mouth hanging wide open, absolutely stunned by its beauty. He'd heard tales of the nymphs living in the forest surrounding the city of Carthiel, so beautiful that they could rival the goddess of love and beauty herself, but he never actually believed them. Not until now. Keith suddenly felt extremely self-conscious, being under the watchful gaze of the beautiful creature in front of him. Curious blue eyes followed his every move, dark fingers that stood out from his own pale skin, tracing every dip and scratch of his body. A small smile crept onto the creature's face, and Keith felt his face burn.

"You can see me," the creature whispered, playing with his hands. "You can see me!"

The creature dropped the leaves in excitement and scooted closer to Keith, grabbing his hands and bringing them close to his chest. Keith couldn't even move - he was frozen in place, either in shock or in fear or in wonder, he would never know. He only watched the creature as it danced on its haunches, smiling so brightly it was almost painful to look at. "What are you..." His voice trailed off, and he found himself at a loss for words again. 

The creature dropped his hands and moved towards his face. "I can touch you," it murmured. "Your skin is so soft... You're so warm. It's wonderful."

Keith thought his face couldn't get any redder, but it did. He looked at his hands, which for some reason seemed a hell of a lot more interesting, trying to calm himself. There was no way this was real. This was all some kind of sick dream. He looked up. Yes, that was it. This was all part of some sick nightmare - he was going to wake up in his tent any minute now. The creature made a noise of disappointment, and he was forced to look at it. 

"Are you alright?" it asked. "You seem so sad."

Keith tried to nod, he honest to gods tried to, but he couldn't. A sob escaped his lips, and he quickly slapped his hand over his mouth. He wasn't going to cry. He was a grown man, a soldier, and soldiers didn't cry. He tried to smile, but he only began to cry. Then he began to scream. 

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair! Why did he get to live when Takashi got to die? Why hadn't he died in Takashi's place? His older brother had so much to live for - he was a good soldier, he was a good man, for gods' sake, he had a future with the princess of their kingdom. He could have gotten married to her, they would have been happy, they would have had a _family,_ but no. Keith took it all away from him, like the selfish bastard he was. He curled up, refusing to look the creature in the eye as he sobbed his heart out.

It just wasn't fair.

 

 

 

Lance looked up to the surface, where the sun was shining brightly in the beautiful blue sky, and he wondered how humans could be so cruel to each-other. He looked into the face of the young man kneeling by the edge of his pool, sobbing and screaming and asking why, why, _why_ , and he asked himself what someone could have down to give such a beautiful man such a pained expression. Lance had half a heart to swim back up to the surface and ask him what was wrong, but he couldn't, even if he wanted to. 

He didn't want to make things worse than they already were.

So he watched the young man cry from the safety of the bottom of the lake, feeling his sadness become one with the clear waters through his tears.  The fish seemed to share his curiosity and infatuation with the young man, nestling in the spaces between his antlers and watching the man with avid interest. Lance rocked forward on the lakebed, pushing himself off his knees to get a better look. The young man, pretty like a nymph but with the eyes of a soldier, had stopped crying and was now seething with rage. Long, pale fingers gripped the hilt of a golden sword, lips moving in promise, vowing revenge against those who had hurt him. Lance craned his neck at the sight of the sword, some sense of familiarity and dread settling into the pit of his stomach as his eyes scoured the blade. He stayed silent, trying to catch the name just off the tip of his tongue. When he did, his breath hitched.

It couldn't be.

But it was.

Memories of the cursed sword swam around in his mind like a dizzying tornado, and all Lance could see for a moment was the screaming and the bloodshed he'd once been forced to live through. The fish seemed to sense his fear, as they swam off into their own little hidey-holes in the rocks. He began to shake his head. It couldn't possibly be _that_ sword. That sword had been melted, destroyed, it was supposed to be gone forever. And yet there it was, in the hands of the beautiful young soldier praying for retribution on the rocks looking over his lake. Lance pushed himself off of the lake floor, swimming upwards towards the surface. He had to warn him, he had to warn him.

He burst through the surface of the water, and the young man screamed.

Sword poised to strike, the young man stared down at him, body tense, waiting for a single movement to attack. Lance's eyes shifted from the sword to the man's face, and then back again. 

"Why do you have that?" he asked. 

The young man glared at him, but it honestly didn't look so intimidating when his eyes were red and puffy from crying. "What do you mean?" the man croaked. 

Lance pointed to the sword. "Why do you have it?" he asked again. "It doesn't belong to you. So why do you have it?"

"It was given to me," the young man replied. 

"Whoever gave it to you must have wanted you to die a horrible death," Lance said. 

"It was my mother."

Lance tilted his head in confusion. "Surely your mother didn't hate you that much," he said.

The young man scowled. "She gave me this sword as a gift before I joined the army," he spat. "She didn't want me to die." After a moment, he added, "Why does everyone keep saying this sword will only bring doom? It's just a piece of metal."

"That piece of metal, as you so put it, belonged to Herakles," Lance said. "Everyone and their mother knows his story."

"His misfortune has nothing to do with my wielding it."

"His misfortunate is the crown jewel of that sword. If you keep wielding it, his misfortunate will soon become yours," Lance murmured. "Now put that thing down before I become even more cursed."

The young man eyed him suspiciously, but he laid his sword down on the grass nonetheless. The two sat in silence, one in the water and the other on land, their only form of contact being seocnd-long glances at each-other when they thought the other wasn't looking. Lance swam up to the rocks and pulled himself up, looking the young man in the eye.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The young man gave him a look. "Why is it your business?" 

"Your the first person to ever be able to see me," Lance replied. "I mean, other than the princess, but she could only hear me, not see me."

"Princess?" the young man echoed. "Princess Allura? She came here?"

"Oh yes! She's come to meet her lover many times before, like all the other humans who like to think it's acceptable to snog in my home," Lance chirped. "She had the decency to apologize for it, though, so it's alright. She's quite a nice princess. Different from the others."

The young man smiled softly. "She is, isn't she?" he whispered.

"Do you know her?"

"She was my older brother's lover," he replied. "They were a nice couple."

Lance hummed in agreement. They really were. He leaned his head against the folds of his arms and smiled, remembering his conversation with the princess. He really hoped that she came back. He missed having someone to talk to. The young man stretched out his legs, and pulled himself closer to the water. They stayed quiet for a few more moments before the young man spoke again.

"My name is Keith, by the way," he said.

Lance looked up. "Keith?" he echoed. The young man nodded. "That's a rather silly name."

"Oh yeah? And what's your name?"

"My name is Lance!" 

Keith snorted. "I've never heard of a nymph named Lance."

"And I've never heard of a soldier named Keef!" Lance shot back.

"It's Keith, not Keef."

Lance shrugged, a teasing smile on his face. "Same difference."

Keith laughed, but he covered his mouth quickly after he did. Lance decided right then and there that his laugh would be his favorite sound in the entire world. He pulled himself onto the rocks, crawling onto the smooth stone and kneeling behind Keith. The soldier tensed as Lance's hands laid on his back, but he didn't move away. 

"How are you still alive after being shot with an arrow?" Lance questioned. 

"You saw that."

"I see everything." Lance brushed his fingers over the wound, frowning when he heard Keith curse. "Does it hurt?"

"No, of course not. I'm used to getting shot with arrows."

"You look prettier with your mouth shut, you know."

Keith became quiet. Lance dipped his hands in the water before bringing them back up to the wound. Tilting his hand, he poured the water over Keith's shoulder, and began to chant under his breath. Slowly, the water began to heal the wound, the skin closing up and the puss dripping away. He pressed his fingers against the back of Keith's shoulder, and smiled. "Feel better?" he asked.

"Y-Yeah."

Lance made a noise of approval before slipping back into the water. Keith watched him disappear beneath the surface, scooting closer to the edge of the rocks and looking into the water. Lance came up again, dripping wet but sighing happily. 

"So what are you exactly?" Keith asked. "You definitely aren't human."

"I'm a...nymph, to put it nicely," Lance replied. "Just your regular old nymph."

"I didn't know nymphs had antlers."

Lance reached up subconsciously to touch the antlers on his head. They were small, branching out only a few inches above and around his head, but they were there. "Maybe I'm not so regular after all," he said.

"And this is your home?" Keith asked. "What is this place exactly?"

"My little haven," Lance replied. 

"How did I end up here? Why didn't the Galra catch me?"

"Do all humans ask these many questions?" Lance teased. 

"I'm just curious."

The nymph shrugged. "There's a spell around this place. A witch from the city cast it a few years back, when she was running from a group of soldiers just like you," he explained. "I didn't catch much, but the spell keeps this place hidden from people. Only someone who needs sanctuary can find it."

Keith nodded slowly. "Interesting."

"It gets lonely, but it keeps the nosy people away, so I'm completely fine with it."

Keith hummed in agreement. Lance looked towards the trees and sighed. It was true, the witch's spell had saved him so much trouble by keeping away hunters or other nymphs, but it had deprived him of interaction Lance needed to stay happy. He was a social creature, he thrived off interaction and connecting with others. Whereas his curse only allowed people to see him through the water's reflection, he could at least catch their attention, but with the spell on his clearing, hardly anyone of interest was able to find his home. It was saddening, really, but what could he do? He was bound to the clearing, it wasn't like he could do anything to change it. He turned back to Keith. In spite of the curse the gods had placed on him, Keith had been able to see him outright, and hear him and talk to him. He was the first of the probable hundreds of people who had sought refuge in his clearing to be able to do that. It both amazed Lance, and downright terrified him. He moved closer to the soldier, and poked his leg to get his attention.

"Tell me," he spoke. "Why were you crying before?"

Lance watched the soft smile fade from Keith's face, and his heart sank. _I probably shouldn't have asked that,_ he thought to himself. _He's going to leave now. Curse me and my big mouth._

Much to his surprise, Keith didn't leave, or get up or move away from him. He did freeze, and his fists clenched, but he only sighed. "I'm a coward," Keith finally answered.

"How so?"

"I'm a soldier from the Carthian army," Keith explained. "Our general called me and my brother yesterday morning, told us he had an assignment for us. For me." As he talked, he moved closer to Lance, but avoided the nymph's eyes as he spoke. "Somehow, he'd found out that I was Galran - half Galran, at least, from my father's side. The general had this idea that he could use that part of me to his advantage, and he told me to infiltrate the Galra's camp near the West Port."

"And you did it," Lance breathed.

"I didn't think anything bad could come of it. If worse came to worst, the Galra would find me out and then kill me. That wouldn't be so bad, right?"

Lance shook his head. It made him sad, and even a little angry, how little Keith cared for his own life. Keith had it all - freedom, the opportunity to make his own choices with his life, yet he took it all for granted, but he didn't say anything, only nodding for Keith to continue his story.

"My brother Takashi thought it would be a good idea to come with me. He'd hide in the trees near the camp's entrance, and help if anything happened. Except..." Keith bit his lip. "They found him. Somehow, they found him, and they took him to the Galran general. That stupid bastard beat my brother right in front of me, and I couldn't do anything because I was still in disguise. Takashi would have been killed in front of me, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything."

"But...?"

"But some soldier ratted me out. He told the general that I couldn't have been one of the recruits the other troops sent, and they found me out. They threw my brother and I into a cell to be executed."

Lance frowned. "But you escaped," he said. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

"When they were going to kill us, something...happened." Keith shivered at the memory. "I don't know what it was, but something...possessed my brother. It was like he became a completely different person, the way he fought." He buried his face in his hands and began shaking his head. "He told me to run. I tried to stay and fight, but he pushed me away and told me to run."

"And you did," Lance said softly.

"I'm such a useless good-for-nothing coward. I could have stayed and fought with him! But instead, I ran, and now because of me, Takashi's dead! It's all my fault!"

Keith began to cry again. Lance didn't know what to do - he'd never had to deal with this sort of thing. Anything he could do might make things worse. But he couldn't just sit there as Keith cried his eyes out, it was wrong. He flailed for a bit, wracking his brain for something, anything to do. He tried to remember all those times people came into his home, crying, screaming, and he tried to think of what people did to comfort them. Patting their back, speaking, hugging! That normally worked, right? Smiling triumphantly, Lance pushed himself out of the water and wrapped his arms around Keith. The soldier froze, and Lance mentally congratulated himself.

"What are you-?" Keith sputtered.

"I'm consoling you," Lance replied. "Now be quiet and be consoled, silly human."

Keith stayed quiet. Lance felt him relax in his arms, and breathed a sigh of relief. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Keith calmed down, and when he did, Lance pulled away and looked him in the eye.

"Now listen to me," he said sternly. "You think it's your fault that your brother died, right?" Keith nodded stiffly. "Now, to some extent, it is. But your brother chose to stay and fight for your life, he told you to run. He made his choice, and you made yours. That isn't your fault." His words seemed to finally sink into Keith's head, and the soldier nodded again. "It's okay to cry. You lost your brother, and that's a terrible thing to live through, but you're alive, and you can honor his sacrifice by destroying the people who killed him."

There was a pause, and it made Lance uncomfortable. Had he said the wrong thing? He began to panic, but the moment he saw a the frown disappear from Keith's face and the sadness in his eyes melt into sheer determination, it all went away. "Yeah," Keith said quietly. "You're right."

Lance grinned. "Of course I'm right," he said. "I'm Lance. I'm always right."

Keith smiled softly, and made a move to stand up. He picked up his sword and looped it around his belt, and nodded. "The Galra are going to pay," he said to himself. "I'm going to destroy every single one of them."

"Are you leaving now?" Lance tried to hide his disappointment, but it was hard to miss when the look on his face gave him away.

The soldier nodded. "The Galra who were chasing me are probably long gone by now," he said. "Thank you for keeping me safe, and for healing me, but I have to go. The Galra won't destroy themselves."

Keith began to walk away from the lake and towards the trees. Lance watched him leave, an ugly feeling settling into the pit of his stomach. "Wait!" He finally yelled after a millennia of internal debate. Keith turned around, and Lance cursed his abrasiveness. "You'll.." the words died on his tongue, and he hit himself. "You'll come back, right?"

The nod Keith sent his way made the dread in his stomach disappear. Lance sent him one last smile before Keith disappeared into the trees, healed and determined and plots of vengeance stirring in his mind. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge pays a visit to a certain nymph, and meets an old friend.

A hazy fog settled over the entirety of the room, smoke wafting from the herbs hanging above the fire pit, filling the shop with the strong scent of sage and mint. The moon filtered through the holes in the ceiling, casting crescents on the stone floor. A snake slithered across smooth stone, large and green, twirling its body up the legs of a chair and onto the body of its human companion. It hissed, tongue darting in and out of its body as its head danced in the air.

“So he’s alive,” a young boy murmured. “Amazing.”

The snake moved closer to the boy’s ear. _He walks the forest now,_ the serpent said. _He seeks revenge, and he will not stop until he’s destroyed everything that stood in his way._

“Don’t you love stories that begin with revenge? They all have that _oomf_ to it that makes them all the more entertaining,” the boy said. “Too bad they all end the same way.”

The snake wrapped itself around the boy’s outstretched hand. The boy giggled, twisting his hand to pet the head of the large serpent. He opened his mouth to say something, but the door to the shop slammed open, startling the boy and the serpent out of the chair. An old man stood at the doorway, wheezing terribly.

“Katelyn,” the old man huffed. “What did I say about staying out so late? And - Did you let that stupid snake out again? How many times do I have to tell you not to let it out!”

The boy scowled. “Fidi isn’t stupid,” he muttered. “And stop calling me Katelyn. That isn’t my name.”

“What is wrong with you? You’ve been acting so strange,” the man said. “Come home.”

“I have business to attend to,” the boy stated.

“What business does a young girl have in a tacky old trinket shop in the middle of the night?”

The snake hissed at the young man, but the boy placed a finger on its head, silently telling it to back down. “I’ll go home when I’m finished here,” he said. “Madam asked me to do a clean up a bit before I left. You can go on ahead.”

The man guffawed. “I’m not letting you go home by yourself,” he argued. “Over my dead-”

“Unless you want to stand outside of the shop looking like a complete idiot until I’m done, you’re going to go home,” the boy said. “Fidi wouldn’t let anyone hurt me. And I can defend myself.”

The old man bit his lip, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he shook his head, and left the shop, slamming the door as he left. The boy watched him leave, then turned to the snake, who was swaying patiently.

“Come, Fidi,” the boy said. “We have to pay someone a little visit.”

 

 

Lance sat underneath the waterfall, fingers combing through his hair as he watched the entrance to his glade intently. It had been a few days since the human soldier, Keith, had left the safety of his sanctuary, and Lance had been wishfully counting the minutes to his return. He felt the breeze brush past his skin, and his heart sped up a little when the bushes twitched a little. Something stumbled out of them, but it wasn’t who he was hoping for. The bloody body of an injured rabbit tumbled through the bushes, the tiny little thing rolling over onto the grass, the fear radiating off its body almost tangible.

He sighed. He knew he was being rather foolish, but he couldn’t help it if he tried. The human was just so _interesting_ , and he had an aura about him that made it hard to forget him. The nymph wanted to see him again, hopefully sooner than later, but it didn’t seem as if Keith was going to return any time soon. If he was going to be honest with himself, he didn’t believe that Keith would return at all - why would he? The only reason anyone ever came into his glade was for sanctuary, and even then, it wasn’t like anyone could find his glade off a whim. At least, as far as he knew. The only ones who had been to his glade countless times where the princess and her lover, and neither of them had noticed him at all until he had made himself known.

Lance looked sadly into the pool of water and hung his head. It was hopeless to await the human’s arrival, but he didn’t want to give up on him - Keith would come back, maybe tomorrow, maybe the day after, or maybe years from then, but he would return. He promised after all.

Smiling to himself, Lance pushed himself off of the rocks and swam towards the edge of the trees, where the helpless little rabbit lay dying on the grass. He picked the little animal up and carried him into the water.

“It’ll be okay,” he said softly.

Lance began to sing a familiar hymn, one that the god Apollo himself taught him. The skin of his palms began to glow, a soft, golden light shining against his dark skin, magic flowing from his body into the small animal. The rabbit slowly regained its strength, and Lance kept singing, only stepping when the rabbit was strong enough to stand on its own. He swam towards the bank and set the rabbit down on the grass.

“There you go, little one,” he said. “Be careful of the wolves.”

The rabbit stood on its hind legs before bounding off into the darkness. Lance watched it leave and smiled. He would wait for Keith, yes, and it would be a lonely wait, but he had the company of the animals, and that was enough. He rested his arms on the soft grass and hummed.

“When Lord Apollo taught you his song, I don’t think he expected you to use it on rabbits.”

Lance shrieked, and turned towards the trees. A young boy emerged from the mass of trees, shedding his long billowy cloak and tossing it onto the grass. A wide smile spread across Lance’s face, and he laughed in delight.

“Pigeon!” He exclaimed. “You’ve returned to me!”

The boy dropped his satchel and cloak down on the grass and plopped down in front of the nymph. “Pidge, not pigeon,” he corrected. “And of course I’ve come back. I promised I would, didn’t I?”

“I’ve been promised a lot of things,” Lance murmured. Pidge raised his eyebrow in question. “But that’s not important. Now, tell me, tell me! What’s going on in the city? Anything new, anything exciting?”

“If you count the war stirring on the port front exciting, then yes, the air is positively teeming.” Pidge pulled his satchel onto his lap and began rummaging through it. “Here. I brought you some things from the shop.”

He laid an array of jewels and crystals down on the grass. Lance’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forward, scooping up a pretty blue one and cradling it in his palms. He looked up at Pidge and smiled gratefully.

“You didn’t have to,” he said softly.

“No, I didn’t, but I know how much you nymphs like shiny things so I thought, why not?”

Lance laughed as he held the blue crystal up to the moonlight. The blue shimmered in the rays of light, casting diamonds on his skin, and he made a noise of delight. He did the same thing with the other crystals, holding them up to the light and buzzing with excitement at their beauty. Pidge watched him play about with curious eyes. Lance picked them all up and pushed himself away from the rocks.

“Hold on, I have something for you too!” he exclaimed.

He dove beneath the water, weaving between the schools of fishes lingering by the moonlit surface. He swam around the waterfall and pulled himself onto the slippery rocks. He pulled a glittery golden box from behind a rock and placed the jewels in carefully with the others before picking out a green necklace. Humming triumphantly to himself, he closed the box and stashed it away, and dove into the water once more. Pidge was there waiting for him when he resurfaced, and Lance thrusted the necklace into his face.

“Take it!” he cried excitedly.

“What is this?” Pidge asked, cradling the string of jewels in his palm.

“It was a gift from a witch who once came here, looking for a place to hide,” Lance replied. “I wasn’t listening to her when she explained what it did - she had such a pretty face, how could I pay attention - but I think it’s supposed to stabilize your magical essence or something! And I don’t really use much magic, I mean, I can’t exactly leave, what can I do, and I know you do magic so it would suit you better and-”

“Lance,” Pidge held up his hand, and the nymph stopped his rambling. “Thank you.”

Lance blushed, and nodded excitedly. “You’re very welcome,” he said shyly.

He watched as Pidge tugged the necklace gently up and over his head. The green jewels settled nicely on his pale skin, and Pidge touched the necklace gingerly before holding up his hand. A flame lit up on his fingertips, dancing down his skin and spreading to his whole hand. Lance clapped his hands and grinned.

“I wish I could do that,” he murmured.  
  
Pidge snorted. “It took me years to learn how to do this,” he said. “It’s pretty much the only thing I can do, other than talk to snakes and make plants grow.”

“Speaking of snakes, where’s Fidi?”

Almost as if it were summoned, the large green snake slithered out from between the patches of grass, brushing its face against Pidge’s thigh before moving towards Lance. It curled around his outstretched hand and stuck its tongue out playfully.

“Good to see you again, little armless lizard,” Lance tapped its forehead with his finger. “Please don’t bite me.”

“I see you’ve stopped your habit of crying every time you see him,” Pidge noted.

Lance cringed at the reminder and shook his head. “Snakes don’t have any arms, okay?” he defended. “How do they eat? How do they move? It’s all so terrifying.”

“They adapt.”

Lance hummed in response. He lowered his arm to the ground and Fidi slithered off, moving between its master’s legs. Pidge picked the snake up and draped it over his shoulders.

“Pleasantries aside,” he began. “I came here for another reason, other than my promised visit.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve been told of someone who stalks the forest at night,” Pidge began. “Someone who managed to escape the Galran camps stationed on the port. Has anyone passed through here recently?”

Lance pursed his lips, thinking. “The occasional animal… There was also a woman who was running from her husband, but-” A light went off in his head, and he looked at Pidge. “There was one. He stumbled through those trees, bloody and bruised, and crying. He was-” _Mind-blowingly beautiful, almost as if he were chiseled by the gods themselves._ “He told me he and his older brother tried to infiltrate the Galran camps, but they were caught. He was the only one able to escape out of the two, his brother was killed.”

Pidge exchanged a questioning look with the snake perched on his shoulder. “What did he look like?” he asked.

“He was rather short, but well built.” Lance deeply regretted not exploring every inch of the man’s body when he had the chance. “Pale, black hair.” And the prettiest eyes Lance had ever seen. If he could, he would have willingly drowned himself in them. “Slanted eyes. As if he came from that one group of countries - what is it called?”

“Asia,” Pidge answered. “Does he sound familiar to you, Fidi?”

The snake hissed something into his ear, and Pidge nodded.

“Did you notice any scars on him? Particularly on his face?”

Lance bit his lip. “One, right here.” He gingerly touched Pidge’s right eyebrow. “But it’s not very noticeable.”

Pidge pushed his hand away, cheeks burning red. “That’s not him, then,” he murmured.

“Who is it that you seek?”

Fidi looked at Lance and hissed again. “We seek a monster,” Pidge replied. “A traitor who hides in the Altean armies. I have to find him before he brings Carthiel to ruins.”

“That’s horrible,” Lance whispered. “What can I do to help?”

“Normally, I wouldn’t ask you to do this, but this is extremely important. I’ll come back in a week’s time, and I’m going to need you to tell me of every person who passes through here,” Pidge replied.

“What makes you think that whoever you’re looking for will pass through here?”

“Your lovely home has a habit of drawing the unfortunate and misguided into its arms,” Pidge replied. “I’m absolutely sure he will pass through here, if he hasn’t already.”

Lance eyed the boy skeptically but nodded nonetheless. “If you’re so sure, then I’ll do it,” he said.

“Thank you, Lance.” Pidge smiled gratefully. He pushed himself off of the ground and picked up his satchel, slinging it up and over his head. “I have to go now. I told my older brother I’d be back as soon as I finished, and I’m sure he’s tired of waiting for me.” He bowed his head before beginning to walk towards the trees.

“Wait, wait!” He froze at Lance’s cries, and turned around.

“What is it?” Pidge asked.

“Kiss!”

Pidge sighed loudly before walking back towards the lake. He knelt down and pressed a soft kiss against Lance’s forehead. “Are you pleased?” he asked, trying to hide his smile. Lance grinned widely, and pushed himself up onto the rocks. He took Pidge’s face in his hands and kissed both of his cheeks.

“Now I am,” he said happily. “Goodbye, Pigeon!”

Pidge chuckled softly, ruffling Lance’s hair before walking back towards the trees. He looked back at the pretty nymph and waved before disappearing into the trees. Once he was a good thirty feet away from the glade, he crouched down next to a tree and covered his face.

“Oh my gods,” he murmured. “I hate it when he does that!”

Fidi nudged his cheek knowingly, tongue flicking in delight.

Pidge slowly stood, face still burning red, and began marching out of the dark forest. He arrived at the gates of the city not long after, pulling his hood over his head and slipping under the watchful eyes of the city guard. He moved towards the old sorcerer’s shop, eager to finish up the night’s task and head home, when he stopped. Standing in front of the shop, hunched over and looking incredibly defeated, was the shadow of a young man. Pidge’s eyes flickered down to the sword resting above the young man’s hip.

“That’s not the old geezer,” he murmured, half to Fidi, half to himself.

Fidi hissed, lifting its head and staring at the figure as Pidge moved closer.

“Hey,” he called. “Hey you! W-We’re closed!”

The person lifted their head and turned to them. Pidge’s eyes widened as the moonlight hit the person’s face, giving him a good look at their face.

_-bright purple eyes, purple, blue, filled with fire and fear, determination, revenge, revenge for his kingdom, revenge for his family-_

Pidge stepped closer, hand reaching out to touch the young man’s face. “It’s you,” he said.

Keith stared back at him, eyes filled with tears, but still burning with that same desire for revenge, even after all those years.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, hasn't it? My apologies for the long wait. AP season is over, exams are out of the way, now it's time to write, write, write! I hope you enjoyed this long overdue chapter


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge gets some answers from an old friend, and Keith gets a place to sleep for the night.

As he fumbled with the keys to the small sorcery shop, Pidge figured the oncoming destruction of his fair city could wait a while longer. There was a dead man waiting behind him, and he was going to get answers.

The two entered the shop, and Pidge stood still for a moment, waiting for Fidi to slither down his leg and off to its little burrow of straw and bird bones. Keith seemed to hesitate a little bit before sitting himself down at the foot of the hearth, pulling the scabbard off his hip and stretching his legs out by the fire. Pidge’s eyes stayed glued to his figure, vision scouring that pale skin marked with scratches and scars and crusted with dried blood. He had so many questions - where had he been all this time? Why had he come back? - but he said nothing, instead moving to grab bowl from the uneven table and filling it with water. He returned to Keith’s side with a rag, kneeling down next to him and beginning to clean his wounds.

“I never thought you’d come back,” Pidge murmured after an eternity of silence. “I thought you were-”

“Dead?” Keith cut in. He threw his head back and laughed bitterly. “I might as well be, Katelyn.”

“It’s Pidge.” The soldier raised an eyebrow, and Pidge’s face turned red. “Not Katelyn. Pidge.” 

Something flashed in Keith’s eyes, but whatever it was he was thinking, he didn’t dare speak his mind. He shifted his leg so that Pidge would be able to reach it, laying down on the dirty floor and letting out an anguished groan. 

“My back is killing me,” he said in attempt to change the subject. 

“What even happened to you?” Pidge asked.

Keith grinned. “Oh, you know, the usual. Running through forests, trying to escape an army of soldiers, fighting for my life.” He patted the cut on his cheek. “Nothing to make you feel more alive than near death experiences, am I right?”

“That’s not funny.”

“It feels funny.” Keith stared into the fire. “Everything that’s happened to me, everything I’ve had to go through, it feels as if my life is just one big joke to the gods. I’m pretty sure they’re laughing at me right now.”

“I doubt they’d find amusement in someone like you,” Pidge mumbled.

“You think they’d mind if I just died or something?”

Pidge stared at him, face white with fear and shock. His eyes flickered from Keith’s face to the wounds on his thighs and back again. A sudden fit of rage seized him, and he threw the rag to the ground before pouncing on Keith. The soldier choked when he felt himself being dragged a few inches across the floor, an angry Pidge grasping at the collar of his tunic. 

“You-!” Pidge’s mind was swimming, he didn’t even know where to begin. “Don’t even say that! You disappear out of the blue, everyone tells me you’re dead! You took my brother, my father with you, you left me with nothing! What makes you think you can just waltz back into my life just like that! I finally got over you. I was finally accepting your death, Matt’s, dad’s, Takashi’s! How-” He covered his mouth, stifling a sob. “How are you even here?  _ Why  _ are you even here?”

Keith reached up and wiped the tears of Pidge’s face, smiling gently. “It’s a long story,” he said softly. “But I’m alive and I’m here, and that’s what matters.”

“What about…”  _ What about my brother and father?  _ Pidge’s hands shook as he let go of Keith’s tunic. The young man shook his head sadly, and Pidge choked down a sob. He knew it. He’d known it ever since they’d disappeared that day, hauled off in chains right before the Galra had destroyed his home village. The Galra had taken everything from him that day - his family, his identity, his only friend, and left him, a mere child back then, on the beaches of Carthiel, orphaned and alone to fend for himself.

When he’d seen Keith, standing there in front of his shop, looking as healthy as a dead man could be, Pidge had been hopeful. If Keith had been able to escape, then surely, Matt and his father had been able to. But life was never that easy, and he would have to deal with the pain of their death all over again.

Pidge pushed himself off of the floor, crawling over to the puddle of water on the ground. He picked up the empty bowl and turned to Keith, who had simply been watching him. “Why did you come here?” he croaked. “How did you find me?”

Keith shook his head. “I wasn’t trying to find you. I was just looking for some hole to spend the night in,” he admitted. “It must have been the will of the gods that I found myself here.” 

Pidge laughed bitterly. “The will of the gods,” he murmured. “I don’t believe in such a thing.”

“You used to.”

“That was before. Before all of this happened - Look at me, Keith!” Pidge tore off his cloak. Keith’s eyes widened at the sight of the green markings running up and down the younger’s pale skin, glowing faintly in the light of the hearth. “I’m a freak. I’ve become something unnatural and wrong, and I hate myself for it.” Pidge’s eyes stung, and he patted furiously at his face with the rough fabric of his cloak. “When those bastards dumped me here, I had nothing! My family was dead! I had no money, I had no place to fall asleep, so I did what I had to do to survive. So tell me, what do the gods have planned for me now?”

“W-What did…” Keith couldn’t tear his eyes from the marks on Pidge’s skin.

“Stealing and running from the law can only get you so far along. I needed money, so I sold myself to the village witch,” Pidge replied quietly. “In exchange for food and a place to stay, I became her servant.” He smiled softly. “It’s really not as bad as it sounds. She allows me to study her books, and she gives me extra coins to spend on myself.”

“What is wrong with you?” Keith asked. “Why would you do this to yourself?! What would your father-”

“My father is dead! My whole family is dead! And guess whose fault that is?!”

Keith froze. Pidge froze, hands flying to cover his mouth. He looked up at Keith, shaking his head vigorously as he backed away. “Keith,” he whispered.

The soldier smiled bitterly. “No,” he said. “You’re right.”

“I didn’t mean it-”

“Katelyn-” Keith stopped himself. “Pidge.”

Pidge didn’t reply. He grabbed the rag off the floor and walked away from the hearth, ignoring the burning sensation on his back from Keith’s relentless staring. He moved towards the bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling, plucking a few of them and tossing them onto the ground, then went to grab a stone hidden behind a few bowls before returning to the hearth. Keith watched him grind the plants into a powder and turn them into a paste, wincing at the sound of the stone grinding rather harshly against the bowl. Pidge made a face at the feel of the paste and scooted towards him.

“Turn around,” he ordered.

Keith stared at the rather strange looking goo before doing as he was told. Pidge scooped some of it from the bowl and slapped it on his back. Keith howled as the torn skin on his back burned.

“What the hell?” he whined. “Can’t you be a little gentler?”

“I’m angry at you,” Pidge replied curtly.

“I don’t know why but-”

“You don’t know-” Pidge almost screamed in frustration, but calmed himself. “Just tell me what happened before I make it hurt even more.”

“Where do I start?” Keith asked.

“I don’t know. Try explaining how you ended up in Carthiel.”

Keith sighed. “I joined the Altean army two years ago,” he began. “The royal family is here on a diplomatic mission to secure Carthiel as part of their alliance in battling the Galra. We were stationed here to protect them in case something happened.”

“Looks like Carthiel refused the alliance,” Pidge murmured.

“What do you mean?”

Pidge poked at one of the bruises on his shoulder. "You're really badly injured,” he said. “What happened? Did they ambush your troops? Or did you fall on your sword.”

“No! No.” Keith shook his head. “A few days ago, our general called me and Takashi in.”

“Takashi? You found Takashi? He’s alive?”

“He’s alive,” Keith replied. “ _ Was  _ alive, I mean. I don’t-”

“Keith.” Pidge put down the bowl and crawled in front of him. He patted Keith’s hair, hoping to calm him down a bit. “What happened?”

“The general called us in, saying that one of our spies had informed him of Galran troops being stationed somewhere along the coast, in the forests. We were supposed to infiltrate and collect information, and that was it.” Keith bit his lip. “But somehow the Galra- They found out. They found me out, and then they found Takashi, and we were sentenced for execution. But-”

“Keith.” Pidge gave his hands a squeeze. “You don’t have to finish if you can’t. Just let me heal your wounds and we can figure this ouT.”

“I don’t know what happened. One minute, they're getting ready to cut Takashi’s head off, and the next, there’s so much  _ blood _ .” Keith could feel it, the fear, the stink of death hanging in the air, and he felt his heart beat faster. He looked into Pidge’s eyes. “Takashi- He turned into something else. He wasn’t my brother anymore. He was some kind of bloodthirsty, murderous monster, and he wanted to kill, Katelyn. He wanted to kill and kill, and he was going to kill me next and-”

“Stop.”

The word was whispered, but absolute, and Keith was left silent. Pidge lowered his hand onto Keith’s shoulder, and Keith felt the air return to his lungs from that simple touch. His breathing slowed, and his hands stopped shaking.

“How did you escape?” Pidge asked softly.

“I ran into the forest- I ran for so long.” Keith replied. “I was so tired, I don’t even know how I ended up there, but I stumbled into this place in the middle of the forest. There was a lake, and the trees were so green, and the flowers- and then I passed out. And when I woke up-” His face warmed at the thought of the beautiful creature who lived in the lake. “I was by the lake, and there was a spirit there, looking at me. He said his name was Lance. He healed me.”

Pidge was shocked. So the soldier his friend had encountered had been Keith. He knew he should have said something, he had made a promise to Lance after all, but he kept quiet. “What was he?”

“A lake spirit, or a nymph.. Or a blessing, sent from the Gods. Or maybe one of the Gods themselves. He was so beautiful, and kind too, I wouldn’t be surprised if he was.” Keith smiled. “He healed me. I don’t think I’d even be alive if it weren’t for him.”

There was a moment of silence between them. Pidge continued to “Do you know-” Pidge hated himself for even thinking of asking, but he had no choice. He had to know. “Do you know what happened to Takashi? If he’s even alive?” 

Keith shook his head. “I’ve been trying not to think about what happened to him,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be. I’m sorry for asking.” Pidge patted his shoulder. “Why don’t you sleep here for the night? You’re tired, and you deserve a night with peace of mind.”

“What is this place?” Keith asked.

“Remember the witch I told you about?” The soldier nodded. “This is her shop. She’s a very kind woman, so she wouldn’t mind. Come, there’s a room in the back where I sleep sometimes when I have to spend the night.”

Pidge helped Keith up onto his feet and lead him over to the back rooms. He settled him into one with a bunch of blankets and sheets, and brought him water and bread. Pidge sat down next to his friend, combing his fingers through his hair. He chanted softly, watching Keith slowly drift off to a dreamless sleep. When he was sure Keith was asleep, he pushed himself off the ground and left the room. Closing the door, he pulled a charm out of his pocket and hung it across the door, murmuring something under his breath before going back into the main shop.

“Fidi,” he called quietly.

The snake came slithering from out of its burrow, curling its way up his leg and settled on his shoulder. It hissed in greeting.

“He’s not dead yet,” Pidge told the serpent. “Our little monster roaming the forest. And he’s more dangerous than we thought he would be.” He pulled out the little crystal the nymph had given him and frowned.

“What do we do now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yi k e s

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me at  
> overlordpidge.tumblr.com


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